Whoa look it’s a thing I wrote
This is the first piece I wrote for The Compass, I suppose you will be seeing more things like it, if indeed you are seeing this at all.
Hello all, my name is Patrick and I’m new around here (This was the introduction part of the post). I’m a med student, which means spending a lot of time in and around hospitals. This Christmas break I had the pleasure of spending an evening working in the Psychiatric ER. As the name suggests, it is a place where people in urgent need of psychiatric treatment are sent: bipolar individuals who are dangerously manic or dangerously depressed, the suicidal, individuals having schizophrenic episodes etc. This story is a response to what I saw there. I hope you enjoy it. Really, I’m just excited to be here (This is the etc. part of the post).
Black Shuck
We know the places well. All of us, in our time, travel them and know them and know the darkling things that go on in them. They are the back roads and side streets, the empty alleyways and hallways where we find ourselves late at night after long, strange evenings. The farmhouse that lies abandoned, at first a sad reminder of times long past, until on closer inspection, one begins to wonder if some things are better left forgotten. We know them inherently, we feel them. So it is with 13th Street.
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tomatograndpa reblogged this from wethecompass and added:
Compass, I suppose
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